No Where Else To Go
by hummergrey
Summary: The Transformers are a dying race in a war that consumed their world and threatens Earth. Then baby Transformers aka sparklings began arriving and arriving with more arriving! A medical mystery for Ratchet to solve. Canon pairings and a femme Decepticon
1. Chapter 1 Where they come from

Author's notes: I know, another sparkling fic. Yes, they are popular and dozens of them are out there in one form or another. Common theme is having a sparkling or two so what happens if somehow a lot of sparklings were all being created about the same time ?

Updates will be random so please add **story alert** if you want to keep up on the latest. I type Elita1 as only 'Elita' since I have never found an Elita2 or Elita3 and the number on the end is harder to type and read. I prefer canon parings but not always and G1 more than movie verse.

On breeding, I referenced the movie verse with the Allspark being transferable energy, the G1 cartoon where Wheeljack made the new bodies for the Dinobots to inhabit, and The Dreamwave _More than Meets the Eye_ where the protoform or shell is made then infused with a spark to become a living Transformer. On Cybertron, the protoform shells are made then stored in stasis pods. On earth, they are not expecting more so there are no stasis pods. And why would a mechanical race have _gel_? That scene in Revenge of the Fallen never made sense. _Liquid on metal_? Where would they get all that fluids on a metal world? One of fifty weird things in that movie.

Easiest is the new protoform is built, the spark added and it becomes a working mech or femme. The Matrix is not required per official Transformer history and there is no detailing on HOW they uhm, mate. I take a guess that they mix energy begin mechanical and not the physical fluid exchanging, (sex) metal building and staying inside the femme (pregnancy) pattern that is way too human. Makes no sense for a mechanical race once the protoform is activated. The optics turn on and bingo, new life form to raise.

There are family units as the G1 Wheelie (not movie verse truck with that name) crashed with "his parents" and the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are "brothers." In a G1 episode, Prime refers to Alpha Trion as his "creator" and in movie verse, the ancient Primes refer to Optimus as "their last descendant" and the Fallen called the others "his brothers."

They have a way of reproducing more energy than physical, have families and infuse a protoform with a spark. All of the above is recorded in tf wiki under the term "reproduction" and in the cartoons, Dreamwave comic, and movie verse. There are other ways but seem a little weird or too dated in the tech world.

This is set after Transformers 2 movie verse Revenge of the Fallen. Rating T is for Cybertron swearing and actions between couples but NO SLASH, NO SMUT OR SLEAZE. Kids read these and I am NOT adding to their moral corruption. I do not own Transformers in any shape, size or form, hence I have a day job that pays not a lot of anything. Onward to what can be.

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In the Autobot medbay on earth, Chief Medical Officer Ratchet contemplated the pink and white armored femme sitting on the med bay berth then verified the readings on his hand scanner again. Blue optics spun tighter then brightened. A rare smile tweaked across his lip plates before his professional manner reasserted itself.

"Those spark surges are normal at this point. However, Elita have you discussed the possibility of a sparkling with Prime?"

"Sparkling? With him? Mister I am the last Prime and have a duty to my troops now that the Allspark is gone and all that? I know he was willing to sacrifice himself for the Allspark destruction." She shuttered her optics, feeling the faintest echo of the pain from discovering he had been willing to offline to prevent Megatron from capturing it. She shuddered emotionally at the thought of losing him. "We discussed it thousands of years ago," she vented softly, wanting to keep their private conversations private. "Why? Is my spark flaring out?" Her blue optics stared directly into his multi-layered ones.

"Not exactly. Three questions first." The green and yellow medic held up his digits, counting them off. "Did you spark with him three days ago? Are your femme protocols up to date? Do you have a name picked out for a little mech?"

'Why would he ask me....' her processors stopped as the meaning behind the questions reached the main programs. Her arms tightened instinctively across her armored chest.

The medic monitored her increased spark pulse and energon flow as well as the sudden release of her jaw gears. "Yes, you're spark carrying. By this time tomorrow, you will have a little mech sparkling. You want to tell Optimus or shall I?"

"You tell him," she vented rapidly, feeling overwhelmed. "He's on a mission. Not sure when his team will return." Ratchet gently braced her upper chassis, talking to calm her.

"Moonracer and Arcee can help. The procedure is easy and you do not even need me. Femmes sparked for a millennia on Cybertron, here is no different. We can make the shell with materials on hand," he began running through what to expect.

Optimus and his strike team returned that night aboard the Aerialbot Silverbolt, in his Hercules jet form. They rolled out of his cargo area in their alt modes, dragging two offlined Decepticon drones with them. Once clear of the human soldiers walking down the ramp, they transformed into their bi-pedal modes, weapons hid in subspace.

"Slaggin' 'Cons!" Ironhide grumbled, his black armor barely reflecting the light. "Send drones out and not their lazy chassis. What next? Automated guns to give us target practice?"

"Easy old friend. We lost no one today. Be thankful to Primus for that." Optimus placed one metal hand on his shoulder armor.

"Primus huh?" Ratchet interrupted, smirking. "Better talk to him. Your life is about to get more complicated Optimus."

"More inbound Autobots?" The tall red and blue-flamed mech guessed, hoping more of those left behind during the Allspark search were online and answering his call to the stars.

"In a manner of speaking. Though I understand a lot of training, patience and soft cuddling may be required," the medic hinted.

"Not another Skids and Mudflap combo!" Ironhide groaned, his black armored hands pretending to strangle something. "Took me an orn to teach them how to shoot straight!"

"Elita is carrying a spark," the medic announced then chuckled at the sudden dead silence. Every mech and human soldier stopped, turning to look at their leader. His jaw dropped and optics dimmed as the statement registered.

"Spark as in?" He repeated faintly, swaying on his multiple feet pads.

"You and she are spark mates and were together three nights ago resulting in her carrying a spark. Want to know mech or femme?" Ratchet asked.

The sudden cheering drowned out any answer he would have given. The Autobots gathered around Optimus chirping and clicking excitedly in their native language as the humans began a betting pool on which gender. The human females complained four days of spark carrying was so not fair. The bots pointed out they had children less often and they took thousands of years to reach full maturity. Which would they rather put up with?

At the appointed time, Optimus joined Elita and the other femmes in med bay. "Are you ready my love?" he asked, his silver armored hands wrapped tightly around one of hers.

"Little late to ask isn't it?" she teased back, relaxed but nervous as she reclined on the medical berth. On command, her chest plates opened. The light of her crystal pure spark nearly overshadowed the small blue spark to the side. Ratchet, optics spinning in full, reached in with a set of transfer tongs, gently surrounding the energy essence. He pulled back, freeing it with the faintest zap noise before lowering it gently into the waiting sparkling shell. Almost immediately, it pulsed and filled out the square core, the little chest plates closing with a faint transforming sound. Then tiny soft blue optics brightening for the first time was met with gasps of wonder and delight from the assembled bots.

"A perfect moment," Ratchet confided to Moonracer later as they prepared for recharge in their private quarters. "No weakness to the spark strength or flaring on unstable parameters. He took to the frame mechanics we built and I almost offlined with happiness."

Two weeks later the mech sparkling had every bot and human under his control or so it seemed to Ironhide. "I don't remember Bumblebee getting this much attention. That mech of theirs is going to be a pit spoiled handful as a youngling," he confided to his mate Chromia.

"Handful is right," she giggled, white lip plates curving into a smile. She watched him pace around their room as she leaned back against their double wide recharge berth before continuing. "When I was entering med bay this morning, Elita was just leaving. She is spark carrying again."

"Two?" The old warrior said, halting in shock. "That old Prime! When did he find the time? Training new arrivals, hit and run Decepticon attacks all over the world and one sparkling already." Abruptly he turned, grabbing her blue chassis, pulling her close. They touched their foreheads together, sparks already beginning to beat faster when he stopped. "Wait, why were you in med bay? Another weapon upgrade? Could have asked me," he grumbled.

"Upgrade yes, weapons no." She teased then held one of his black armored hands to her blue armored chest plates. "I have something to tell you."

"YYEEHHHHHHHHH!"

Half the doors in the Autobot private quarters sprung open at the yell. Weapons were charged, battle computers onlined as their owners looked for the cause of the commotion.

"I'm going to have a sparkling!" Ironhide yelled, running up and down the hallway, rolling his cannons.

Chromia stood in their doorway, rubbing her head plate in exasperation. "So much for announcing it tomorrow at the weekly review. And I am having the sparkling. You get to watch."

"Be glad he is taking it well." Optimus regal baritone startled her. She craned her neck up, realizing he had snuck up and was watching everyone else react. Elita's pink and white form peeked out and around from behind him.

"Is it safe?" she teased.

"Are cannons ever safe? But I think together we can handle one sparkling," she teased back, stressing the word one.

"The second was an accident," the femme commander defended.

"Speak for yourself. I knew what I wanted and succeeded," Optimus winked one optic at her, turning and wrapping his massive blue armored arms around his mate.

"Did anyone ask me what I wanted?" A cranky mech's voice interrupted them all. Ratchet stood in the hallway, wrenches in hand. "No, they spark and expect me to make sparkling shells in between fixing your thick afts too slow to dodge 'Con fire. You femmes, back to recharge. And keep up on the energon. You mechs," he smiled without amusement, hefting the wrenches. "I will deal with later. For now, KEEP IT DOWN!"

The hallway cleared super fast. Ratchet vented softly, returning to his quarters.

Two days later, Elita and her entourage were in med bay, to welcome a little femme. One earth day later, Ironhide held his new femme and felt the vorns of pain and death fade from his processor when her tiny blue optics focused on him, her small body nuzzling against his chest plates.

"That one is going to be a handful," the medic quoted merrily to Chromia as her chest plates closed, resealing. She rolled her optics, ignoring his attempt at humor and reached for her sparkling.

"She can be whatever she wants," Chromia began, her lip plates brushing across the sparkling's helm and air vents in a feather light kiss of welcome.

"And she is what we wanted," Ironhide finished, while his optics watched her slip into her first recharge. Ratchet waved the other femmes out into the hallway where the other Autobots waited for his report.

"Fully functional and fiery. However, the next mech who sparks unplanned gets a wrench to the head and better tell me over an open comm and not in weapons range," he threatened, grumbling about attending medic school to be a spark catcher.

A human month passed without incident, the new families adjusting to the routines, each sparkling spoiled by Transformer and human both. Ratchet still grumbled, but meet with Wheeljack several times, discussing upgrades and modifications for the next set of sparkling bodies. "As a precaution," he told the civilian inventor. They prepared two of each, femme and mech and stored them in med bay under the center treating berth. The top piece slid back into place, hiding its precious contents when the internal medical comm activated.

::Ratchet, I need you for an on-site verification:: First Aid

::Verification? Your systems not able to figure it out? Try upgrading your medical programs more often:: Ratchet snipped, secretly pleased he was showing initiative. His assistant had sufficient medical training but getting him out into the field had proven to be a task in itself. 'Compassionate but over cautious,' his profile read.

::More a _who_ than a _what _I think. Please come to these coordinates:: First Aid sent the data packet of information.

"Primus in a pit!" Ratchet swore, lifting a yellow green armored hand to cover his optics. He moved, seeing Wheeljack staring at him. His sidebars were reddish orange with caution and worry. "Another femme sparked. First Aid is attending her now. Be back shortly." He stomped out of med bay and over to the Autobot's personal quarters. The younger medic waited outside the door, gesturing him forward. It should have occurred to the Chief Medical Officer why a femme would call for his assistant first, or which quarters he stomped into but did not.

His processing slid to a halt at the beaming green and white femme sharpshooter sitting on the recharge berth.

"Moonracer?" He blinked, frozen mid-stomp.

"Ready to train another assistant?" She patted her chest plates. The crash to the floor brought First Aid running in. His boss was in stasis lock on the floor, optics open wide while his femme was rolling on the berth, laughing.

_To be continued…_

_Next: More and more sparklings and the mystery why_


	2. Chapter 2 To Love a Sparkling

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. They help keep the ideas flowing though I have quite a backlog if I ever use them all. This chapter is more intense and you will either love or hate this chapter and its emotions. Thanks to Phoenix13 for her allowing use of the names Sabre and Safire she created in Scent of the Future. Thanks to Laureas for Gasket for Ratchet and their wonderful reviews.

Sparks are canon in the Transformer universe. It is the life force or soul of a Transformer. It is a physical entity protected inside a mechanical shell that makes up the bots protoform or shell or chassis. **As long as the spark is intact, the body can be rebuilt or transfer a spark to a new shell. When the spark is gone, the Transformer is gone.**

I use the idea of the spark transfer to relate to the little sparklings or baby Transformers. In Transformers the ultimate guide, both Megatron and Prime have "spark chambers" to hold their sparks. Transformer canon instances have established that a spark holds all of an individual's memories, along with their "essence" or personality. A Transformers behavior can be modified through programming but there will be a conflict between the programming and the "true" nature of the spark within.

So part of the breeding is an intact spark can be transferred into a new protofrom and that Transformer have a personality, and can experience life through external sensors. I researched this on tf wiki under terms "spark" and "personality component."

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In the Autobot med bay at Diego Garcia, the femmes watched Ratchet stare at his new sparkling without moving. Arcee helped Moonracer close her chest plates, running the verifying scans on her vitals. "All green and go," she reassured.

"Is he going to move?" Elita asked. As femme commander, tactics were her specialty; dealing with temperamental medics was not.

"Eventually, and no, he's not running scans either. His optics are fixed. Does that when he feels overwhelmed. First time he saw me the same reaction occurred," Moonracer said, rising and approaching her family. One armored hand slid under her sparkling femme, pulling it tenderly to her chest plates from his armored hands. She stepped to the side then belted Ratchet hard up alongside his helm.

"Uhhh!" He sputtered, a wrench sliding into his hand from a hidden wrist spot. "Is she functional?"

"She is, you are debatable. Zoomed out while holding her," Moonracer explained. "I'll hold her at first." They all turned as the doors slid open, revealing Optimus and other Autobots. They saw the sparkling and cheered, welcoming the newest Transformer.

"We do the work and they celebrate," Elita joked, her sparklings waving stubby arms at her and clicking rapidly as Optimus held them. "Hi sweeties. Ready for your energon bottles? And say hi to…uhm, what are you going to call her?"

"Gasket," they both said, ignoring the startled looks of the others.

::And you told me no to my suggestion:: Ironhide sent to his mate on their private comm line.

::I said no to the name for our femme. A mech we can name Steelwill. Agreed? They look so happy together:: Chromia

::Which they?:: Ironhide

::Does it matter?:: Chromia

Among the humans, bets were paid and Major Will Lennox used his second place win to buy his daughter Annabelle a new teddy bear. Sergeant Epps took first again, claiming it was random chance and not his responsibility for overseeing security cameras and safety measures that gave him the edge. The 'who would spark next pool' continued quietly for several weeks. The Autobots reassured them their race had relied on the Allspark and while the current sparklings were a sign of their survival, they were not the pattern.

Both Transformers and humans focused on the sparklings, who were learning everyday around the humans and their new world. Then the Decepticon hit and run attacks on human technological factories started. Optimus took his team out, leaving strict orders to protect their most fragile treasures until their return.

"Missed them again!" Ironhide swore, rolling his cannons in the fading sunlight. "Hit and run like pit maulers!"

The disembarking human soldiers gave him a wide arc, unloading their gear out of Silverbolt. Optimus rolled out next in his Peterbilt truck alt from, his mass requiring a more centered position. Transforming up into his bi pedal mode, he digitally filed the combat report to the mainframe.

"Unnecessary damage and destruction after the Decepticons stole what they wanted. There is no reason for that waste. The war destroyed our beloved Cybertron, will they destroy this world too? And the humans never know we fight for the right to live their lives," he processed in frustration. The unloading finished, Silverbolt signaling he wanted to transform and visit the wash racks himself.

He started to turn and issue an order when a spinning metal object smacked him center helm with a resounding clang! "Ow!" he winced, stumbling a step backwards as his weapons charged, the rifle appearing on his back, battle computers locking onto the green and yellow medic stomping his direction, another wrench already in his metal palm. Safeties kept him from firing but the temptation was there.

"If we didn't have enough problems!" the medic yelled, throwing another wrench. Optimus barely caught it before it hit.

"Twins are trouble, you know that! Either set!" Two wrenches this time, both barely caught, the lower one dangerously close to striking a nearby human.

"There is trouble now," Optimus warned, his optics narrowing as his fists clenched around the wrenches.

"And you add to it!" Ratchet snarled, lip plates tight. "Worse, you risk what is most precious in your existence! Isn't being Prime enough?"

"Explain," he said in the even, steady deep command tone he had spent thousands of years perfecting.

The medic snarled, and then paused, multi level optics narrowing as he scanned the mech before him. His hands unclenched, and he vented rapidly. "You didn't know Elita had sparked twins?"

"No, she did? I've been busy for days and she hasn't… contacted," he answered then vented, as he reached for her. The weakest echo returned. The wrenches he had caught fell to the ground. "What happened?"

"Twin sparks are dangerous, often causing back surges in the femme. Elita sensed something different this time and came to med bay. We were prepared and still it was close. She's functional and is resting!" He yelled at the backside of their running leader. Optimus jumped over buildings, vehicles and around humans, not caring who he scared with his speed and size. The holes in the pavement could be filled, her place in his existence could not.

::'Lita, my spark's desire, hear my cry:: Optimus sent with all his strength.

::Here:: Elita sent back faintly ::Where?::

::Coming. Hang on:: Optimus

::Not going anywhere:: Elita reassured.

He slid into the med bay doors, nearly ripping them apart in his haste to reach her. Bumblebee whistled and jumped out of the way. Optimus saw only her white and pink form lying on the first medical berth, supply cables and energon tubes in both her arms and chest. Her optics opened, dim but lit. He never remembered crossing to her side, focusing on her. Emotions surged as he nearly broke with the thought of losing her. She sent reassurances of love and support, pulling on his strength.

Bumblebee cooed at the sparklings nestled in the medical force field, signals strong and steady on the monitors. 'Two mechs. Must be a twin thing. Never heard of twin femmes. Arcee is a split spark.'

Ratchet entered his med bay, growling at the condition of his doors before motioning for Bumblebee to stay there. "Are you the only mech who knows how to properly use a door?"

::He's upset and loves her.:: Bumblebee sent, wincing at the flickers of red in the medic's blue optics.

"Optimus is a Prime and knows better. I would have called him immediately had the worse happened or her condition deteriorated further. I need to check on the other sparklings Sabre and Safire. These new ones are still in recharge but when they awake," he started to say something then stopped, shaking his head as he glanced over. Optimus kneeled by Elita, optics locked onto her face as his arms wrapped around her upper chassis. "Stay until they separate. Prime can sleep here and not on the floor either. Use the spare room, I might need the medical berths and he is too heavy to throw off in an emergency. And you recharge or else! I can throw you," Ratchet threatened then left.

It took half the night before they separated, Optimus touching his newest sparklings through the force field before staggering to the spare side room and falling across the recharge berth. No words were needed between them as Bumblebee propped the door open, allowing him to face Elita's direction. Ratchet returned, checking on the newly sparked twins before bodily swing the young scout of the room, grumbling about having to replace the main doors.

Bumblebee checked on the older sparklings, safe with Ironhide, Chromia and their sparkling Starslide, then returned to his quarters. Unable to initiate the resting program, his processors played the med bay scene repeatedly. Elita fighting for her existence, Ratchet swearing as her mechanical signs dropped, reaching and removing the first blue spark, placing it in the waiting sparkling shell Bumblebee held. Then the second spark, transferred to Wheeljack's held shell as Ratchet focused on saving Elita.

Bumblebee recalled the moment when the sparkling he held opened its optics, focusing on him. He treasured feeling the new life move, watching it reach and grasp his armor with a hand tinier than his own. He clicked, trying to reassure that Optimus would return and Elita would be fine. Quick steps and he placed it under the medical force field, keeping his hand wrapped around its tiny frame. Wheeljack placing the second sparkling in the medic chamber, scanning them both before moving back to help Ratchet. Only after they relaxed into recharge, did Bumblebee slid his hand away and out of the force field.

'How empty my hands felt,' the little yellow mech realized. 'I was always held but no bot was ever small enough for me to hold. Is that what the others felt, taking care of me? Knowing life in the midst of war?' He flipped on the berth, unable to slip into recharge.

The next morning the entire base knew the story of Elita's near offlining, the sparking of twins and the good news she was recovering and would be fine. Arcee took her turn at caring for the other sparklings, both glad and sad she was unmated. Returning to her quarters, an encoded message pad was waiting on the recharge berth. The pad activated when touched, identifying her unique energy signature before playing the message.

"_I know I will never be spark mated and accepted that fact long ago. You know the reasons why. I have held a sparkling and cannot believe Primus would deny me that joy after what I have suffered through. I come to you as my only hope of a sparkling, to be sparked without commitment, without requirements and absolutely no interfacing. I wish only to attempt it then if we fail, I will never ask of you again. I have spoken to no bot of this nor will I ever. You are free from any responsibility, right, or claim or as you wish once it is sparked. I care not whether femme or mech, only it is functional and mine to raise and love. Take what time you need and contact me either way please." _

Her jaw gears went slack as she sagged onto the berth. "Me? He wants to spark then keep the sparkling and not let anyone know it was me? What is this? A prank?" Metal hands clutched the data pad, bending and warping it before her processor reasoned further. "He would not joke this way. Is he serious? Am I?" Computations and simulations spun until she knew. The comm link took only as astro second to engage but her processir felt like it fluttered a thousand times in that time.

::Meet me tonight after the doors are secured and every other bot is in recharge:: Arcee

Two days later found her waiting by the security door to the femmes private quarters yet again. "Am I fragging crazy? A second try? Our first attempt was an unmitigated disaster." Optics shuttered in embarrassment at the experience. "Sparking is merging our essences, our very souls in human terms. Knowing another existence in its purity no matter the joy or pains it has suffered. A beautiful culmination of all we are and can be. Except that didn't happen," she processed. "Our sparks almost merging, then wild energy flaring to knock him off the berth and me nearly offline. Wouldn't that have been a nice scene to explain? What were we doing with open chest plates and scorch marks? Take a guess dumb aft," she snarled mentally.

He entered, head down, his entire form showing defeat yet his optics held a pleading hope in their single glance at her. "Even the Allspark took time to build our race. Come on," she gestured while wondering if it was worth it.

The next morning she knew. The mech lay against her, deep in recharge as she stared at the ceiling. "I have never felt such love as he holds for a sparkling not even existing yet." She touched one hand to her now closed chest plates, wondering if the merge had been enough. "It was enough for me to understand. Spark mates cannot survive long past the loss of the other. And know I know why." Unbidden came the thought process of what it would be like to have a mech always by her side. Her thoughts drifted to the one she favored, Hot Rod. "What would he think if he knew I was doing this? This is our last attempt either way. And time I pursue what I want. "

Scans that night confirmed the presence of a developing spark. "I swear I have crunched hip plates after that hug. Never seen any bot so giddy with excitement." She giggled, sneaking alone into med bay. "Elita is back with Optimus and Ratchet is probably recharging in his quarters. No alarms detected, perfect." She grabbed the medical case needed, sneaking back out quietly while keeping it hidden in her hand. No one noticed or questioned her on her walk back to the Autobot quarters even as processors ran dozens of scenarios of the others discovering what they had done.

Three days later, her chest plates opened on command, as the new life readied for its own existence. The room was quiet except for the shuffling of the mech as he waited. 'The portable medical containment is designed to hold a new spark for quarter of an orn if needed in full battle conditions,' she rehearsed mentally. 'He only needs to reach med bay and grab a sparkling body. One breem is all.'

He reached, cradling the white spark in the transfer tongs, pulling it into the open air. The faintest sizzle sound and her containment field shifted as it left. The emergency containment closed around it, all signals green.

Arcee's chest plates slid close with the faintest transformation sound. "Go straight there. Pick a femme shell, lower the spark into the main chamber and it will online. And relax. The hardest part is behind us. I leave on a mission with NEST search teams. Be in the field one human week. Keep in contact."

Bumblebee nodded, sliding his yellow armored chest plates to the sides to hide the emergency containment cube underneath then slid the plates back.

::Thank you Arcee. For everything:: Bumblebee

She nodded, wanting to hold her sparkling in the shell and afraid she would never let it go if she did. He left and a part of her ached. "Did I do the right thing? She will be so loved by him, I only wish someone loved me like that." The silence provided no answers.

Bumblebee entered med bay, relieved to find it empty. It took the young scout a few seconds to release the catch on the main berth, sliding it back to reveal the protoforms inside. He lifted the first two out carefully, more square in the head design and solid body for mech. 'There,' he vented gratefully, lifting out one with a curved in center plate and rounded head. The med bay doors opened and he froze, protoform in his arms.

"Bumblebee, what in Primus name? Did another femme spark?" Wheeljack asked, his sidebars blinking soft purple for confusion.

::One did, with me:: Bumblebee sent, suddenly worried about all that could go wrong with the transfer.

"You did what! Is she okay? Is Ratchet with her? Did he send you here to get a shell?" He threw the questions out, too startled at the young mech's admission.

::Femme is fine. Sparkling is mine alone now per us both. It is hidden under my armor. I need your help with the transfer. Please?:: Bumblebee begged, his optics wide.

"Yours? Can you handle raising one by yourself? What will Prime say?" Wheeljack rubbed his chin with one hand, processing whether to call Ratchet, Prime or both.

::Don't know. But I will love her and give her all she needs and what I can of anything she wants. I will offline before I lose her. What else is required?:: Bumblebee

The scientist contemplated the answer then made his decision. "Hand me the protoform, you on the other med berth."

Outside, Prowl walked down the hallway, double checking security settings. "Verify the new med bay door locks and back to my quarters. Been there a joor ago if the twins hadn't pulled that prank and were thrown in the brig. Will they never learn?" Audio receptors detected a voice in med bay. "Wheeljack? What is he doing?"

The doors opened and the Autobot second in command froze at the sight. Bumblebee sat facing off to the side, his chest plates open and Wheeljack reaching inside with insulated transfer tongs. Then he stepped back, cradling a miniature brilliant white light.

'Not possible,' the security officer processed, pulling all known records super speed on the scout. 'Bumblebee is not a femme. But that is a…'

They watched as Prowl stiffened, optics going dim as he fell backwards to the floor. "Stasis lock from his logic glitch. Ratchet really needs to fix that," Wheeljack quipped, lowering the spark into the waiting shell. His chest plates closed after he removed the emergency box then leaned forward, praying and watching. It onlined, blue optics opening and seeking out the nearest spark. Bumblebee felt his spark respond, picking up his daughter and holding her close.

The med bay doors opened and Ratchet nearly stumbled to avoid stepping on Prowl. Then he looked up and no bot moved as they stared at each other. His optics spun in full medical scans to confirm what his processor was failing to understand.

:Prime, come to med bay now:: Ratchet sent across a high priority link without moving.

::Is it necessary? Elita just slipped into recharge, sparklings too. I am not sure I can handle much more right now:: Optimus replied his weariness overlaying the vocal tone.

::Bumblebee has a sparkling, unknown femme:: Ratchet

::Bumblebee as in the yellow scout and youngest of us? He has a?:: Optimus

::Sparkling:: Ratchet

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3 To wanting more

Author's Notes: Thanks for the name suggestions and reviews. And thanks to laureas for the name Gasket. Yes, they are sparking left and right. There is a reason (yet to be revealed). Nice to do a more emotionally serious fic, even if dealing with hard family issues.

Sorry, may not be able to use all the names offered. And Arcee will not end up with Bumblebee. He deserves someone more his size and temperament with joy and totally in love with him. Hot Rod was a Prime, even if he sucked at it and got OP almost offlined permanently! He needs a fiery fighter for a mate. Onward to frantic medics and happy femmes.

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The military base at Diego Garcia had one purpose, to hide the NEST base of operations for the Transformers and supporter's combat teams. Yet even the most hardened soldier softened when entering the main Autobot hangar. Its' back half was blocked with cement freeway barriers, enclosing a wide space. For adult Autobots, they barely lifted their feet plates to clear the barrier. For the sparklings, the tallest could not yet see over the top. It would be years before they matured enough to receive a second frame physically and reach that height. It would take a third frame to receive weapons capable of blowing through it.

Optimus never tired of watching the humans' reactions. 'Men who see death and think nothing of killing each other over the a piece of land or political ideas forgotten by the next administration, melt when they see our young,' he thought then focused on Bumblebee and his sparkling femme.

::Move back, she needs space to vent:: Optimus

The young yellow scout looked up, optics widening as the message relayed in. Both hands that had been on either side of her pulled back as he sat down, giving her a few feet of moving space.

::Move back, not sit back youngling:: Optimus sent, using his command tone but gently. ::And more than two spaces:: He watched as he was obeyed, though Bumblebee continually scanned the area, ready for anything.

"More protective that an over wired femme, isn't he?" Ironhide commented, walking up to Optimus' side. His optics were on Chromia and their sparkling femme Starslide.

The tall red and blue mech glanced down at the weapons specialist then pretended to ponder the question, one hand on his chin plates. "I seem to remember an ancient hardened warrior who threatened to offline any mech who let Bumblebee get out of their sight while youngling sitting."

"So says the Prime who did the same thing. You threw Red Alert in the brig for half an orn for forgetting a recharging Bumblebee behind in a room when he left it, intent on his work and not youngling watching. And I'm not ancient," the black mech vented a snort like sound. "That's pronounced experienced."

"No experience could have prepared me for seeing him holding his own sparkling." Ratchet quipped from behind them both. He walked up and past, multi facet eyes automatically scanning every movement of the beings inside the play area.

"You're mad he didn't ask your help," Ironhide teased.

"He didn't ask you mean," Ratchet corrected. "He seems to be adjusting. I was beginning to worry he would never let her go except when he was recharging. Major Lennox asked me several times if she was welded to his arm plates."

Optimus optics darkened as his memory processors replayed the med bay scene. Wheeljack and Ratchet trying to bring Prowl back online as Bumblebee, held a femme sparkling in his arms as though facing Megatron himself. Joy, defiance, and fear flowed across the young scout's face plates while he remained silent. 'Not sure what every bot expected me to do. Separate them? Strip his rank and throw him in the brig? Take the sparkling and give it to another? I am a Prime not a tyrant. They should know that by now,' he complained mentally.

Instead Optimus had kneeled down, craning his head forward to look at her tiny face. "What will you name her?"

::Aurora. For the Aurora Borealis. When it is dark, I want her to remember to look up and see the light above in all its beauty:: Bumblebee had sent over the open comm so they all heard. No bot moved.

"I would have thought Honey or some Bee variation," Wheeljack confessed. "Though she is sweet and has you already wrapped around her little processor."

A high-pitched squeal brought his focus to the hangar play arena. The nearest soldier caught the rolling ball, throwing it back to its' squealing owner. The other soldiers relaxed, hands moving from weapons and tense bodies unwinding from a possible alert.

'Primus help us if a Decepticon or even a human with bad intentions eve set foot in here. Wouldn't be enough left to identify," Ironhide joked, approving of the response.

"Did we ever identify the femme?" Optimus asked.

"Not positively. You and I both know she has stated no claim. Only two unbonded femmes on base and they both left on the same mission. We could have discovered who by ordering them for a medical exam," Ratchet said.

"No, I stated my reason," Optimus said. "I would not ask a mech to prove his spark to me. Neither should a femme. I respect their choice as any being under my command. You asked they both report any potential medical problems and I therefore ordered the mission to continue under that promise. Should we need to know, either creator will notify us. We are required to respect the choice and provide the support she needs."

**Field Mission - Serbia, European Continent**

Arcee read the scanner's thermal profile results and flashed hand battle code signs at Hot Rod. He flashed a smart answer back and she resisted the urge to chuck the sensor at his head plates. 'No communications, total stealth in case of Decepticon ambush and he's cracking jokes about the local plant life. What did I ever see in him?' she wondered. They both stood, instinctively moving closer. His red and orange paint blended into the fall foliage better than her coloring.

"Can I ask you a question?" he began, folding his arms across his chest plates while keeping his pulse rifle ready.

"You just did," she half smiled, wondering what excuse they could use to stay out after dark. Watching the stars with him was still on her to do list. He hesitated, tilting his head sideways, shifting on his feet pads. A blip flashed on her scanner and she focused, turning towards the signal. NEST command codes echoed back as the far team reported no signs at their point. 'Nothing, nada, no targets. Suits me fine.' She processed, tucking the unit back into her side hip.

"You're the femme who sparked with Bumblebee," Hot Rod said.

She froze, head down and body still. Her processor spun with any suitable response then decided there was nothing she could say. He knew.

One hand gently touched her shoulder, as he slid around to face her. Fingers lifted her chin up. "That's so beautiful. To make that level of sacrifice for another," Hot Rod told her, his face plates showing utter admiration. "I never really knew my creators. They were offlined before my second frame. I was unplanned and spent more time with other sparkling creators than them." His vocal tone was bitter as he withdrew his hands from her.

"I enlisted to get revenge for their offlining then discovered what had happened. They took a mission they weren't even needed for. The ship was lost on an energon run. I fought but took a serious hit. Ended up in med bay." He glanced up, seeing the clouds rolling by."Kup was there. Both legs blown off, spark chamber fractured and telling stories about worse war injuries. Once the techs left, he kicked my aft into gear verbally. Never let up on me. Demanded I be on his team next mission and never left me behind."

"I'm sorry," Arcee said.

"Hey, not your fault," the young mech looked at her, his orange plates reflecting the setting sunlight. "But you sparked for Bumblebee out of love. I know they were after you to tell and you didn't. Let him have full claim. I respect that but more, you did it for the right reasons. Not for lust or to show you could or to claim rights but by choice to help another. I can't imagine that type of love. But I want too," his optics stared directly into hers.

"Are you asking me?"

"Yes. My processor focuses on you, I always know your schedule and where you are and Kup's been threatening to kidnap and lock us in the brig together until we work it out."

"I never said anything to him about you," she growled.

"He's older than Ironhide. Claims that gives him insight. You, uhm, still haven't answered. Do you want to? Or at least try?" he asked, pulling in air through his vents and holding.

"No trying," she said, watching as he vented the air back out and optics dimmed a little. "No slacking mechs on my shift Hot Rod." He laughed, hugging her then stepped back only for her to grab him tightly. "Got you and I'm not letting go."

**Diego Garcia Island - British Indian Ocean Territory, Indian Ocean, Leased and ran by US Forces.**

In the Autobot medbay, Chief Medical Officer Ratchet stared at both femmes, wondering if his idea would work. "Chromia, Moonracer I need your help. Bumblebee is not listening to me. Can you talk to him about Aurora?"

"Already have," Moonracer shrugged human style. "Uploaded the basics from your files into the mainframe and he read it, picking what he needed. "

"What is it with him and not interfacing, even wrist cables?" Chromia asked.

"Torture. When the Decepticons were closing in, he shorted all his external connections, keeping the location of the Allspark safe. Then watched his entire team be offlined because they didn't know where it went. The interrogator ripped him apart piece by piece then crushed his vocalizer. I repaired him best I could physically but he locked me out of the events. Only Optimus has ever connected to those files and he had to encrypt and overwrite them with a pass code. They kept resurfacing at odd moments. Bumblebee fears anyone seeing them or worse, gaining access to the secrets he keeps."

"A warrior fights. A shooter removes threats. But a scout sees it all." Chromia softly recited. "I never really understood that until now."

"He may see but doesn't know it all. You have to help him. I have an exam scheduled tomorrow for Aurora and he may be uncooperative. If your femme sparklings are there, Starslide and Safire, he can see there is no threat," The medic explained.

"Sparklings there all right," Moonracer smiled at Chromia who smirked back. They both faced the medic and tapped their chests once.

"You are both…" he trailed off when they nodded. "Primus in a blankie."

**NEST BASE – Main Runway**

"You coming Prime? Silverbolt transforming around you might be messy." Ironhide kidded, glancing up the ramp at his commander.

"Is Ratchet anywhere?" He asked quietly, his Peterbilt semi alt form motionless in the cargo bay.

"You hurt? Why didn't you say something sooner?" He grumped, reviewing the fight for which 'Con was going to give up his spark the next time he and Ironhide crossed paths.

Optimus' engine engaged, roaring to life, his alt form slowly rolling down the ramp. Transforming, optics scanned all directions before relaxing his guard. "I was afraid of thrown wrenches and sparkling news." He admitted sheepishly. "Sabre, Safire, Orion and Spitfire are perfect. One per hand for Elita and I."

"Ask Ratchet to weld another arm on then." He joked, ignoring the massive blue fists signing battle code threats. "You and what army Prime? Wait, you're sparking your own army!"

"Play nice boys." Chromia ordered. "Still want the name Steelwill 'Hide? Moonracer picked Firebrand for her mech."

Optimus groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "The humans are never going to let this rest."

**10 pm Main Autobot Hangar – Command Team Transformers**

"There is no programming error, glitch or reason for the number of sparklings," Prowl stated. "I conferred with Ratchet, Wheeljack and Red Alert. Asked the femmes themselves. They do not know."

"I've considered the premise that one sparkling created the desire for one of their own in the others. Or they would have as many as they desired then stop," Red Alert added.

"More like we desired them," Ironhide said.

"Keep that up and I will weld your chest plates shut. All of you." Ratchet threatened. "Only Elita has had difficulties but let me make this clear. Sparking is risky for a femme. Raising sparklings wears on their main systems. Sparklings can have conditions that develop suddenly. There are only two qualified medics here. The next three sparklings better be the last for at least half a vorn!"

"Three?" Optimus caught instantly.

"Hot Rod and Arcee sparked. A femme two days out. They're naming her Firefly," He admitted. "They're mates now."

"But I thought Bumblebee and her?" Wheeljack mumbled, his bars flashing purple and red.

"Never confirmed it was Arcee. Bumblebee and Aurora are happy and healthy. The rest is irrelevant," Optimus firmly stated.

"We need to figure out why. Before something goes wrong and we lose one." Ratchet reminded. "Any suggestions, any bot at all?"

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4 Doing what you're told

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and yes, the medics are closer to the answer of why. Thanks to Phoenix13 for Sabre and Safire. Thought this would be a shorter arc but so many characters want their story told. The **BOLD means change of location and or time.** Easier than all the transition phrases. Onward to sparkling cuteness, dumb government aides and finding out when but not quite why.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

Metal clangs echoed in the Autobot med bay on earth, largely ignored by medical officer Red Alert and scientist and inventor Wheeljack. The numbers rolled past on their data pad screens, familiar yet providing no answers. Another clang sound echoed.

"How many was that?" Red Alert asked.

"Seven more wrenches and one clamp," the civilian scientist answered absently. "The only pattern to the sparklings are them occurring within the same time span."

"And all post landing on earth," Red Alert added, just as baffled.

"We checked that first, earth alone is not a reason" Ratchet snarled, stomping past them into the room. Two broken wrenches sailed into the metal scrap bin. "What are we missing?"

"I noticed, that is," his medical assistant started, venting rapidly, his back emergency lights spinning before he regained control. "We know they sparked. How many times did they spark before the sparklings were formed?"

"You want to ask Prime how long he and Elita have sparked?" Wheeljack asked in disbelief.

"No, Sabre was the first sparkling. How many times since him did they spark before Safire was created? Then how many times sparking _after her _until the twins were created?" They all stared optic to optic at each other.

"You thought of it, you find a way to get the answer," Ratchet smirked. Too embarrassed to ask, he created a questionnaire, sending it to all Autobots with the data encoded to keep their identities hidden from any access attempts by non-medical personnel. The three mechs compiled the numbers and had their answer.

"Each time? Each sparking created a sparkling! And none of them thought to tell us this?!" Ratchet raved. His yellow and green form was practically vibrating as he stomped around his med bay.

"You have two sparklings and never said. Eep!" Red Alert commented then ducked wrenches, diving behind the medical berth. "Well you didn't," his muffled voice sounded from hiding.

"Wait, Bumblebee lists two attempts while Arcee states one," Wheeljack noted.

"Arcee said the first attempt was a total non-connect. Their sparks were close to merging and back flared, nearly toasting them both. Told me in confidence when I was examining her for Firefly. If you ever tell, to any bot or human, I will make Ironhide's cannon blasts look like popcorn pops for what I will hit you both with! Clear?" Ratchet's blue optics flickered with red.

His memory processor flashed back to that interview. Arcee on the main scan table, sitting patiently as he asked questions while examining her spark spires. The brilliant white of her spark illuminating the entire area.

"Any pain or uneven energy when with Hot Rod?" He asked, pulling physical readings directly from her systems via a wrist connection cable.

"None."

"What about when with Bumblebee?" He asked.

"We only did it twice. First time was a near disaster," she answered truthfully.

"Twice? Transformers have sparked hundreds of times without a sparkling and you want me to believe twice?" He asked, optics narrowing as he retracted the wrist cable. His hand transformed from mini detector pads back into metal finger digits.

"That is the truth," she hissed, pulling her pink chest plates closed. "You may need hundreds of times to get it right. We took one." Her optics began showing the faintest red specks.

"Did you take an enhancement charge? Use any spiked energon or assistance device?" He asked then stumbled backwards as two pink feet pads slammed into his chest.

"You arrogant glitch head! What type of femme do you think I am?" She yelled, hopping off the scan table. "I helped and sacrifice my claim and this is what I get?" Her static rifle appeared in her hand.

"I lockdown all weapons in medbay," he reminded, his own systems resetting from her impact. "You kick hard."

She snarled then left, muttering, "I kick like a femme dumb aft."

Ratchet vented softly, realizing how close he had been to a partial answer after that interview. His assistant peered out and around the medical berth edge, his white and red colors vivid against its dark blue.

"Solved the when but not the how or why. What now?" The younger medic asked.

"No sparking. How hard could that be to enforce while we keep researching?" Ratchet said.

**Main Autobot Hangar - Diego Garcia**

"Are you slagging insane?" Ironhide asked. "We wait thousands of years to be reunited and no sparking?" The assembled mechs mumbled their agreement. The femmes were watching their young in their quarters, having been briefed earlier that day. By common assent, they wanted the mechs told without them being present.

Wheeljack and Red Alert stood to the side, letting Ratchet in his position as Chief Medical Officer explain what they had discovered.

"You spark and get a sparking. Get that through your processor. Ask yourself if risking her and the sparkling being created is worth an energy surge to make you feel good?" Ratchet asked.

Silence meet his question.

"There is nothing in existence I would trade for Elita." Optimus stated quietly. "We will comply with your request for time to discover the answer."

"I don't like it. But I love Chromia more," Ironhide finally agreed.

**Private Quarters – Autobot section, Diego Garcia base**

"How did the mechs take it?" Arcee asked, holding their wriggling Firefly. Chirping excitedly, she reached for her mech creator, little arms waving like wings. Hot Rod grinned, catching her and lifting her little rose colored form up as high as he could.

"Not good until he pulled the ultimate threat. You femmes. Thinks every spark will have results." He laughed, dropping Firefly down suddenly, and then zoomed her back up high.

"He told us that too. Know what I think? He's guessing." She winked one optic. "Want to prove him wrong?"

"I might once my little love bug goes into recharge," he answered, zooming her around the room at arm's length.

"Wait, weren't you suppose to download and review that geography packet?" She asked.

"It can wait. One minor mistake in my report. Right buggie boo?" He vented air gently over her white mid plates, loving his sparklings high pitched squealing.

"Yugoslavia was never part of the Soviet Union mistake you mean? And that it no longer exists by that name minor detail? Major Lennox was not happy," She reminded.

"He'll live. I will do it first thing before tomorrow's status meeting. And look who is slowly closing their optics," he whispered, holding her close against his orange armor. She cooed, folding up tiny arms and feet as he stroked her tiny head plates.

**Main Autobot Hangar – Following Morning**

Hot Rod patted his sparkling on her headplates then winked at Arcee as the femmes stepped over the barrier to join the other families already there. Major Lennox and Sergeant Epps were laying out piles of paperwork and data pads when the strange humans walked in. Hot Rod noticed they both wore the appropriate colored security tags embedded with microchip transmitters. "Mike Wilson, congressional aide and Senator McGovern, Washington State." He pulled the information then ignored them, striding over towards Ironhide and Optimus by the communications platform.

"You want what?" The major shouted, getting everyone's attention. The congressional aide leaned in close, holding out a document and not saying a word. The major shook his head a hard no and pointed towards Optimus. "You get them to agree first. This side of the barrier."

Both humans approached slowly, craning their necks to look up. Optimus kneeled, leaning down while making no sudden moves. "Yes?" He asked, his tone soft and even.

"I'm Senator McGovern. I carry an order for the temporary securing of two minor assets for technological review."

Optimus blinked, hoping his sudden guess was wrong. "Specify please."

"We want to borrow two sparklings for the day to study them," The aide said then froze.

CLICK! CLICK ! CLANK ! CLUNK ! ROLL! CLICK!

Dozens of weapons appeared out of subspace, out of arm plates, across backs, and out of leg catches, all of them charging, rolling and coming instantly online, all pointing at the two humans. Optimus never increased his vocal volume nor overtly threatened but raised to his full height, energon swords sliding out of both arms. "Leave. And do not return."

The human soldiers muttered angrily but made no move as Major Lennox approached the men. "The door is that way. I suggest you use it. Or you will be escorted out and off the base to ensure no accidental side adventures."

Later he laughed when telling his wife Sarah the way they backpedaled, trying to watch the Autobots and where they were going at the same time. Her suggestions on what should have been done rivaled the Transformer femmes. The TV in the background displayed breaking news and the situation changed for everyone. The Decepticon symbol had been painted on an ambulance with three words in Cybertronian underneath and left in the middle of a local children's park. "_Meet Help_ and the time code symbol for _sunset_ that same day."

The base went on alert, trying to figure out the message. Almost to the minute sunset began over Diego Garcia, a Decepticon transmission was sent, addressed to the medic Ratchet and him alone. A request for medical assistance and a meeting quickly. He could bring any two mechs of his choice as assistance but no more. The message ended showing the Decepticon Constructicon Scrapper.

"Survived Egypt. Thought they were all accounted for," Ironhide muttered.

Then the front loader transformed into his bi pedal mode, the yellow chest plates opening to reveal a white spark and a smaller pinkish spark off to the side.

"He's a she?" Hot Rod gasped.

"And she's sparked." Ratchet added.

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5 What we feel about others

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and name suggestions. Thanks to Phoenix13 for Sabre and Safire and Laureas for Gasket. When this started, I was thinking one chapter or two and now it's five and still not done. Onward to the first nine reasons and dealing with what we feel about others.

**Autobot Hangar, Diego Garcia Island - Communications platform and main floor**

"Then it's decided," Prowl said. "Ratchet and the twins will meet Scrapper. Backup teams one and two will monitor and assist as needed."

"I still think I should go," Ironhide grumbled.

"Give it a rest man!" Jazz said. "We've been over this already. You are too trigger-happy, Prime is too tempting a target and the Lambo twins are the best in close situations. Prowl here would be next but he already glitched out twice discussing this." The black and white second in command narrowed his optics in a rare expression of irritation before taking back the discussion.

"Team two stays here to guard the sparklings and the rest of us are backup. Anything not covered?" Prowl asked.

Bumblebee whistled, raising one hand human like for a question. ::May I go with Team One? My scout capabilities can assist::

"You would leave Aurora?" Optimus asked.

::Yes. She is my responsibility but that does not excuse me from my other duties. You may need me. Hound is on a mission. No other bot has my sensor capability:: Bumblebee

"Very well then." Optimus acknowledged, "Transform and roll out!"

Three hours later, they returned to Diego Garcia, with Scrapper and her femme in a new sparkling shell. The Autobot femmes stood together outside the main hangar, watching her transform and accepting the tiny sparkling from Ratchet.

::Is she functional? Why were you carrying it?:: Moonracer asked her mate.

::Guarantee no fighting:: Ratchet sent back. ::Sunstreaker's idea. No femme will risk her sparkling::

::Of all the pit low tactics!:: she seethed ::Primus slag him for meanness. She asks for help and he suggests that, and worse, you help him?:: Moonracer

The other femmes listened in, each showing disapproval. Sunstreaker formed a smile with his lip plates then slowly stepped behind his red twin.

::Told you it was a bad idea bro':: Sideswipe

::Decepticons cannot be trusted. Femmes especially:: Sunstreaker

::And you wonder why you are unbonded?:: Ironhide stated, the black mech keeping a watchful optic on the Decepticon femme.

::Enough all of you. Scrapper guaranteed unconditional surrender for temporary sanctuary. We will honor that:: Optimus sent then gestured for her to enter the hangar. She hesitated until the Autobot femmes entered first, then followed them. The communications platform, wall decorations and human accompaniments were viewed then disregarded. The back half had her instant attention.

"I know you said, I never realized there were eight," she trailed off, seeing sparklings playing inside the barrier. Elita stepped up to her, hands open and moved slowly. "Two more sparklings are coming. Steelwill and Firebrand. You and yours are welcome here under peace. What is her name?"

"I thought Digger but that seemed too earth locked." Scrapper answered. " She deserves more than a name that implies death or destruction like Fastkill or Starfall. There has been too much of that."

"How about Silver?" Prowl suggested. "A rare metal yet realistic in valuation."

"Silverblade I like. A way to divide the truth and to know what is right and what is not." Scrapper stated. "What are their names?" Each femme proudly pointed out their sparkling, Sabre, Safire, Starslide, Steelwill, Firefly and the others and why the name chosen. She accepted Bumblebee and Aurora without question. Moonracer was last with Gasket.

"Long story," was all she said for the name reason. Meanwhile, Silverblade had woke from recharge and was crawling around the floor with the others. Safire played with three interlocking blocks then deliberately pulled off the top one, handing it to Silverblade. She grabbed it, and then crawled one shaky space forward, banging the piece on top of the others.

::Typical 'Con attitude:: Ironhide commented on the Autobot only comm frequency.

::For a sparkling a few breems old that is showing coordination. Your Starslide's first motor coordination skill was to bite my finger during her first check-up:: Ratchet corrected.

::Wait until she has arm cannons. Her bite will be worth complaining about:: Ironhide

Major Lennox approached Optimus, having snuck in during introductions. "And?" he asked. In response, Optimus transformed into his alt mode, the driver door to the Peterbilt semi opening.

"My alt mode cab is sealed against intrusion," he explained once the door shut behind Lennox. "With the Allspark sent from Cybertron, the Decepticon femmes feared they would be forced into breeding programs. One of their medical officers begun switching their protoform program to assume male armor shapes and characteristics. Once on earth, she was recruited for a combiner team and hid her secret even then."

"Devastator." Lennox said, remembering the surveillance footage from Egypt. "While we were waiting for Sam, the Fallen and that thing attacked the pyramid. How did he, err she escape?"

"Placed her Decepticon symbol on an earth vehicle that had been damaged at the construction site that matched her alt form. In the rush to secure the area and handle the media, no one examined every chassis."

"I'll let the Pentagon know for the future. It's one thing to know who escaped; another to let them slip past you for want of a ten second double check." Lennox made a note in his pocket tablet. "Who is the mech, if I can ask?"

"A seeker called Thundercracker. He discovered Scrapper's secret while assisting in repairs following a battle," Optimus voice sounded from everywhere in the cab.

"Threatened to turn her in if she didn't do what he wanted?" Lennox felt uneasy, his mind imagining all types of scenarios.

"No. He cared for her and was reassured when he discovered she was a femme. Apparently, they were both beginning to feel a bond developing. Scrapper knew but dare not say. Their sparking was mutual. It was his suggestion we be contacted for protection. Megatron would kill both femmes without mercy then hunt down the mech for his weakness of loving her."

"Weakness? He's never dealt with a female. It takes a man to live with one, especially when you've messed up big time," Lennox rolled his eyes, sheepishly remembering.

"I agree," Optimus chuckled, the cab rocking slightly with his amusement.

Ratchet tapped on Optimus hood, motioning for Lennox to come out. "I need to talk to you Prime. Discovered an interesting fact."

"And that requires my true form how?" Optimus asked, transforming back into his bi pedal mode.

"Doesn't. All those multi colored flames make my optics hurt after awhile. The Decepticon femmes use a disengage program override to keep from sparking. With adjustments, Wheeljack and I think we can modify it for our use."

"Sparking again?" Ironhide asked same time as Prime.

"Is that all you think of?" Ratchet snapped.

"And my cannons." Ironhide smirked, rolling them once. Optimus didn't say a word. His processors were calculating the best way to inform the military and related contacts they were granting asylum to a Decepticon femme and still keep her safe.

**Autobot Med Bay, Diego Garcia Island, Earth – two days later**

Ratchet stared at the wallboard, eyes distant as the data was continually reviewed.

"It won't change until we change it," Wheeljack reminded from his position at the main console.

"Two more sparklings, makes ten. Primus be thanked we haven't lost any of them." Optics closed, worst case scenarios barely kept under system locks.

"And no closer to knowing where they came from," Red Alert muttered then sheepishly vented. "That was not phrased right."

"Knock knock," Arcee stated, leaning in around the open door. "Am I disturbing you?" Noticing Ratchet staring at a wall, Wheeljack at the console and Red Alert half hiding behind the far recharge berth.

"Not unless you are spark carrying," Ratchet muttered, gesturing her in. "What?"

"About that," she curled her lip plates inward, folding pink and white arms across her pink armored chest. "I'll come back later, you look busy."

"Get in here." The chief medical officer commanded, pointing towards the nearest scan bed. "How long ago? Not after the patch upgrade?" His fingers transformed as his eyes began changing to their most focused setting.

"No, I never got it. We, Hot Rod and I, sparked the night after you told us all not to," Arcee quickly uttered.

He vented hard then quieted. "I can handle failing to listen better than a failed program patch." He watched her chest plates open, revealing a healthy mini spark. "Picked a name for him?"

"Him? Flashover. Wait until I tell Hot Rod," She smiled.

"Tell him in the brig." Prowl stated, walking into the medical facility, keeping his optics averted from her open chest. "The mechs were warned. Or didn't he tell you that part? Willful and unnecessary endangerment of a fellow Transformer."

::I thought you had no sense of humor:: Wheeljack

::Who said I was joking?:: Prowl sent as she reasoned it out, trying to see him over her chest plates to verify if the mech was serious. ::I would rather be hated and feared for holding them in the brig than holding a grieving sparkmate::

Later that night, Optimus laughed as Prowl explained in person why Arcee had commed him, demanding Hot Rod be allowed to attend her during the transfer. He had agreed, knowing not to deny that request. "Are the code patches holding?"

"So far. Though no one has admitted to trying its effectiveness. That is a better question for the medics."

"Too personal an area?" Optimus teased.

"Before I joined your team my sister lost her sparkmate. I stayed with her until she joined the matrix," Prowl's tone never changed but the pain was there. "I have never found a femme worth sharing my existence with but I have considered it. Logically such a relationship is offset by the sorrow and predictable cost in personal time and energy. But I would not refuse should it present itself. A medical officer can review the situation without emotional interference. I cannot." He bowed his head until Optimus placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Caring is not weakness. That is a Decepticon premise. Without our emotions we are the robots the humans compare us to. We are more than that. Go recharge. If you need me, I am here to listen." He watched Prowl turn and walk down the hallway and enter his personal quarters without a word.

::Sparklings are nested. Time for you to recharge:: Elita

::In the hallway:: Optimus replied, striding towards their quarters. Elita rose to greet him then snuggled as his huge arms wrapped around her chassis. He held her tight, resting his head on top of hers. The rhythm of her systems, the hum of her spark was enough to chase the fears away.

He stroked her face plate with his thumb, stepping back and staring into her optics. "Never leave me."

"Wanted: femme commander and four sparklings in good condition. Prime upgrade optional." She joked.

"Optional am I?" he murmured, still holding her.

"You do have a limited number of uses." She threw the verbal teasing right back. Her hand found a sensitive cable in his neck and pressed it, getting the exact reaction wanted. His lip plates brushed against hers before moving elsewhere. When they finally gave in to each other on the recharge berth, their sparks merged in an electrifying display. What they didn't notice was four sets of little optics watching from the far wall bed bunk. They blinked and giggled at the pretty lights.

The next morning, Major Lennox read the reports from security and the maintenance director about electrical surges and lightning displays in the Autobot quarters, emanating from multiple point sources. He forwarded a copy to Optimus without comment.

Lennox delivered the medical copy personally only to find Ratchet staring at the data wallboard. Nine entries now filled the top space.

"What are those?" He asked, trying to see the correlation.

"We didn't look far enough. There is no one cause for the sparklings. There are multiple." The medic gestured.

"Why not override the femme programming that creates a sparkling?" He voiced the obvious.

"Too complicated. A medic never adjusts two things." Blue optics leaned over him. "The spark and a femme's programming. Unwritten law of the medic core. If any part of the femme programming is damaged or corrupted, the entire sequence is scrapped and reloaded from another healthy processing femme." Ratchet stood straight, bracing against the nearest berth with one hand. "There was a time when those adjustments were made by the Decepticons. To create multiple sparklings to create an army quickly with the fewest number of femmes required. The resulting…beings….did not come online and the few that did went offline quickly. The femmes quickly followed, their programming literally coming apart."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Lennox apologized.

"These," Ratchet pointed at the board, "are nine reasons our main systems have altered since landing. First was the adjustment for earth's magnetic poles. Megatron was disorientated by it and crashed in the arctic following the trail of the Allspark. Bumblebee's systems adjusted automatically and uploaded the data to us upon arrival as well as your excuse for a language. The weather, tropical storms ionization, your moon's gravity pull, seasonal changes, and hiding our signals from the Decepticons. Each an alteration that could affect our sparks."

"You guys travel through space, filled with all types of radiation and who knows what and our rain is a problem? Your arm has thicker armor than our tanks! You carry more power in one weapon than a nuke but worry about a full moon?" Lennox sputtered.

"Our spark isn't in our arms, it's in our chests. Chests that retract and expose the spark to your atmosphere, pollution and all. It's in the air between two Autobots that sparks merge and become one soul." His hands pantomimed the distance.

"Thicker shielding on the personal quarters? Move them underground? What can we do to help?" the human asked.

AUTOBOT EMERGENCY COMM – COMMAND OVERRIDE

::Medical emergency. Femme is down. Need you on the targeting range!:: Red Alert

::Who? What?:: Ratchet was already running.

::Firestar. She's online but over charging. Cooling now. Hold Jazz down! I need room to work:: Red Alert

::Jazz?:: Ratchet asked, jumping over two tanks, then sliding around the corner.

::Screaming about Firestar, hold on:: Red Alert went silent ::Her spark?::

:Her spark spires were damaged! Check the back weld::Ratchet

::It's fractured. How did?:: Red Alert

::Injury in Egypt. Prime used the matrix to stabilize her and Jazz donated part of his structure. Only compatible one available. Do we know what happened?:: Ratchet

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6 Choosing and choices

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews and I am so happy! Other stories have been inspired by this one and I love it. Always willing to share and help other writers. Thanks to other writers for their permission to use sparkling names.

Even more sparklings and happy endings this chapter. As always, NO SLASH / SMUT. Cybertron time - Breem is 8.3 minutes; Joor is 6.5 hours, Orn is 13 days, Vorn is 83 years. For orn or vorn remember v is very for very long time is vorn.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

**Autobot Medical Bay**

**Diego Garcia, NEST BASE**

Ratchet keyed the final circuit link, stepping back as the mech's systems unfroze. "Sorry Jazz, but you wouldn't listen. Be ready," he told Prowl and Ironhide. Jazz's form was half kneeling, his weight supported by his fellow Autobots. They merely tightened their grasp on his white armored arms, their footpads pinning Jazz's legs from the back to the med bay floor. His systems came online, vibrating and humming as power returned. Optics snapped open, flaring bright blue.

"What happened?" Jazz mumbled then struggled, "Firestar, she is!"

"Stop!" Optimus commanded. His twenty eight foot plus frame filled his vision. "She's online and recovering but in stasis. Your pain will add to hers," he stepped out of the way, letting him see Firestar on the med berth. Cables ran out of her chest and arms but vitals showed stable on the monitors. Jazz's optics shuttered as he vented rapidly. "I felt her go down. I couldn't reach her until the launcher was destroyed. It was so fast."

"Release him. You're spark mates?" Optimus said.

"Yes," he admitted, opening his optics, pressing one clawed hand to his silver chest plates. "In the last orn. She cornered me one night, slamming me against the wall. Said she was going crazy every time I was around. Thought she was pulling a prank. Then I realized my system was doing a cha cha cha itself." He rose to his feet pads, optics never leaving her unmoving form.

"Wait! You've sparked with her recently?" Ratchet spun around, focusing on the resident thief.

"I never hurt her! I knew the spire welds were weak and welded with my donated parts. We tried resisting but the bond was there," he confronted the green and yellow medic right back.

"How many times?" Ratchet demanded, pulling up data from Firestar's mainframe components when Jazz didn't answer.

"That's none of your business!" He yelled then hushed as Prowl and Ironhide moved his direction. The black armored mech rolled his cannons once in warning.

"Multiple sparking and no sparklings! Her chamber is intact and you should be knee deep in sparklings. Programming is intact but unkeyed. Physical shows no deviations, wait, there is one minor detail. A change with the configuration between the two welds," Ratchet said then became immersed in the holographic representations of her internal systems.

Optimus waited in med bay the next joor to keep an optic on Jazz as well as hear what Ratchet had discovered. Elita appeared after Ironhide and Prowl left, her pink and white form a welcome sight.

"Arcee and Chromia are in their quarters. Jazz was a surprise to them but handling it. Delighted about Firestar choosing. She's never shown an interest in mechs to the point they were beginning to be concerned."

"Femmes have the right to remain unbonded," Optimus reminded. "I would never demand that, no matter how few of us existed."

"Not that! You mechs think all alike," Elita raised a pink fist to half threaten him. "Not everything is about sparking for Primus sake! They were concerned she was becoming withdrawn and losing her ability to care." Ratchet glared at them, a wrench sliding into his hand.

Elita dropped her volume and continued. "They are a tri set but each has different interests. Chromia likes weapons and followed Ironhide onto the battlefield. Arcee was at Iacon working with communications relays and went from partner to partner. Firestar was a med tech on the second moon base but never partnered. They regrouped and enlisted when you consolidated all the Autobot forces, adding weapons and joining my assault team. Never thought she would pick Jazz."

"Why not? A thief can steal a femme's spark too," Optimus teased, folding his massive silver metal hands around her smaller ones.

A wrench sailed between them before thudding against the wall. "I said, I need Elita on the exam table. Do you two ever listen to me?" Ratchet snarled his lip plates, ignoring their smirks. He waited until she laid down. "Open your chest plates please. I believe one minor part addition and no more sparklings unless you both choose to."

Elita vented softly, opening her chest plates up and sliding them back. Ratchet and Optimus stared at her spark and the small mini blue spark nestled underneath it.

"Elita, still like the name Pax for a mech?" Optimus asked, moving around the table keeping it between him and the medic. "The programming patch didn't work."

Ironhide merely gloated when Chromia's spark exam revealed another little femme spark. They left arguing about the right name. Hot Rod cheered for Arcee then spent two breems cleaning the char mark off the ceiling from blasting the wrench thrown his direction. She picked Backdraft for their little mech's name. Ratchet covered his face plates with both hands when Moonracer opened her chest plates to reveal two sparks.

"Don't follow your own advice?" Ironhide teased him. "Chose a name? How about Sparkie?"

"He can be called Seleno. It's the human term for study of the moon," Moonracer said. "I heard you got overruled on all of your choices. Perihelion and Skycatch are more mech. I agree with Chromia, Darkstar is better for a femme."

"Once I weld the new part and program interlocks, naming a future sparkling will be optional and not required." Ratchet reminded. "Scrapper is not carrying by the way. And wants to remain a neutral while she stays with us."

"It's her choice." Moonracer said. "She did give Silverblade the Autobot symbol. I worry about ours getting enough energon or not receiving enough attention. Starslide can be so demanding while Steelwill rarely fusses," she sat up, closing her chest plates. "Scrapper has to worry about the Decepticons finding them or the human government refusing them sanctuary. A greedy and controlling race."

Major Lennox took the news of the coming arrivals with the barest trace of nervous laughter. "More the merrier? My wife called me this morning. She's pregnant and expecting in six months," he told the assembled Autobots.

"Mech or femme?" Optimus asked.

"Not sure, too early to tell. There are three of them. Triplets," he blushed.

Scrapper wondered at the cheers; humans were still inferior to her. "They breed without thought for their planet's limitations and waste what they have. The Autobots defend them and make friends of them. I'm not sure I can stay much longer," she complained, watching the stars above later that night.

"You are safe there. Starscream believes you died in battle orns ago. I presented convincing evidence that you and Barricade fought, he won you didn't," Thundercracker said from his spot on the grass. The seeker sat, alert for any intrusion as he watched his femme.

"Barricade? Is that the best you could come up with?" she griped, rolling to look at him.

"He, or should I say she, went AWOL. Been missing since before the Fallen fiasco. Not likely to reappear," he commented then stretched out by her. "I've been missing you. Missed me?" The stars were forgotten as their sparks created their own light. Returning to Diego Garcia, she reported the meeting to Optimus true to her promise. He was concerned about possible Decepticon surveillance following her back.

"You are responsible for your own actions. You know your fate better than I if the Decepticons think you have turned on them," Optimus warned before leaving. Ratchet appeared and demanded a full physical to be safe.

"You refused the part weld. Sure that is what you wanted?" He asked as his optics spun back to normal.

"Give me one reason I should let you meddle in my chest," Scrapper demanded, wanting only to leave med bay.

He turned his hand palm up, displaying a holographic scan image of a large light above a small one. "One mech enough?" Thundercracker was allowed on base, once Ironhide confirmed his weapons were removed and offline. He welcomed his sparkling then left. Scrapper stayed and continued to refuse the Autobot oath or symbol but never displayed her former Decepticon one while there either.

Firestar and Jazz appeared in med bay a week later, asking for Ratchet.

"Weld still holding? Any problems sparking? Any pain or flashbacks?" He began, scanning her immediately. "Hop on the table, let me verify. You functional Jazz? You're not looking too steady on your feet pads."

"Depends on what you tell me on her," he replied, leaning in to look as her purple armored chest plates opened.

"A spark," Ratchet whisphered before sagging, balancing on the table as his legs weakened. "The weld attachment failed?"

"More like moved," Jazz corrected. "Relax Doc. We chose this and wanted to be sure. Femme with that coloring? Lydian then."

By the time Sara Lennox delivered, there were no more sparkling arrivals. The adjustments based on Firestar's repair welds worked. The next femmes met with Ratchet upon arrival to Earth and the situation was explained. The first femme flat refused to pair with any mech.

The second femme considered the idea but would wait until she was spark mated. None of Optimus team was acceptable. Several attempts by mechs to encourage a relationship had them being repaired in med bay. Optimus threatened the next mech to bother her with Chromia and Elita having a 'personal locked in a little room alone' talk with said mech. What was left would be brigged or offlined by his authority as Prime.

The last femme helped Bumblebee with Aurora and their friendship lasted a short time. They held a formal bonding ceremony, a mix of Transformer oaths and human wedding rituals. Sam and Mikeala plus dozens of humans attended. Their first sparkling, Cadence joined Aurora the following month. They went on to spark more, each loved and welcomed. Oskinate was proudly presented to the delight of Optimus.

::Finally, a mech has more sparklings than me:: Optimus

::That can change:: Elita winked.

::Five is enough for now:: Optimus

Sideswipe presented his gift to celebrate the newest Transformer then hunted down his yellow twin. "You going to sulk forever? Femmes keep arriving. Matter of time 'bro."

Sunstreaker vented softly, continuing to polish his leg plate. His withdrawing from the others, even his own twin, became noticeable. His continued lurking around the sparklings made a few of the femmes nervous. Arcee and Hot Rod discussed the situation then she approached Sideswipe. They talked for awhile then left the hangar together. Sunstreaker happily helped Hot Rod watch the sparklings and tuck them in for the night. Arcee arrived as he was leaving, thanking him for being there. He left, his optics misting over as he replayed holding the smallest on his chest plates, her energon bottle being contentedly drained.

Sideswipe waved at him in their quarters, not saying a word as his twin turned towards the wall after laying down. "If you need me," he began then quit. Several days passed without a change.

::Sunstreaker to med bay:: Ratchet

::No more talks. It won't change my programming:: Sunstreaker stated, wiping off the rain ::I'm coming off patrol duty. Is it important?::

::Sideswipe is here and needs you:: Ratchet

::Fine. Why didn't he contact me directly?:: Sunstreaker sent angrily, cutting the com signal, then walked across the base to med bay.

He entered through the sliding doors and froze. His red twin was holding a tiny shape; feelings of joy, apprehension and excitement flowing over their twin link.

"Is that?" Sunstreaker began, his spark beginning to pulse.

"Yes, ours now."

"Who was the?" He asked, moving closer.

"Not saying. Mutual and no claim. Meet our new femme, Jewel." Sideswipe held out the little form.

Ratchet worried Prowl would overcharge his system when Jewel kept the twins busy for the first months and out of trouble. Then they began teaching her what pranks were just to hear her bubbly laughter.

**Optimus and Elita:**

Sabre (m)

Safire (f)

Orion (m) & Spitfire (m) TWINS

Pax (m)

**Ironhide & Chromia:**

Starslide (f)

Steelwill (m)

Darkstar (f)

**Ratchet & Moonracer:**

Gasket (f)

Firebrand (m)

Seleno (m)

**Bumblebee & (Arcee)**

Aurora (f)

**Bumblebee & (Femme)**

Cadence (f)

Gavotte (m)

Minuet (f)

Nonet (f)

Oskinate (m)

Vivace (f)

**Hot Rod & Arcee**

Firefly (f)

Flashover (m)

Backdraft (m)

**Scrapper & Thundercracker**

Silverblade (f)

Rockbane (m)

**Jazz & Firestar**

Lydian (f)

**Sideswipe, Sunstreaker & (Arcee)**

Jewel (f)

Bumblebee's names are music terms. Hot Rod's later two are fire terms. Jazz's femme is a musical Jazz term. Several sparkling names including Sabre, Safire, Aurora, Firefly, and Gasket are used by permission of other writers. The rest of the names are created and if you want to use them, feel free. None of us own Transformers or fan fiction. They let us post our ideas here for free. Transformers are trademarked, patented, owned, licensed and controlled by Hasbro and Paramount and whoever they have signed contracts with.


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